Contentio
by pure artistry
Summary: He despised the fact that he hadn't been there when he had been needed the most. He detested the thought that he could have changed it all if only he had been stronger when everything started dwindling down. If only he had been more patient, if only he'd had the courage to say stop. If only. - Contains self-harm & suicide. If easily triggered, please don't read. One-shot.


**PLEASE NOTE; TRIGGER WARNING  
THIS STORY CONTAINS IMAGERY SUCH AS DEPRESSION SELF-MUTILATION AND SUICIDE. IF THIS CAN BE CONSIDERED A TRIGGER FOR YOU, PLEASE DO NOT READ THE FANFICTION BELOW.  
**

**This story is based on the song Amelia by Tonight Alive. While Amelia didn't commit suicide, I find that the song still fits for the case. It's a beautiful and touching song that simply inspired me to write this.  
Please take care of your loved ones. xx  
**

* * *

There were days when the grief became too much to handle for James Sirius Potter. Days when the angst tore him apart from inside and out. And there were days when he walked without feeling much at all. But most days his insides were filled with distress and the kind of hopelessness that came with the loss of someone you loved dearly.

He despised the fact that he hadn't been there when he had been needed the most. He detested the thought that he could have changed it all if only he had been stronger when everything started dwindling down. If only he had been more patient, if only he had had the courage to say stop instead of quitting. If only.

But 'if only' was no longer enough. There was nothing he could do now to stop what had happened. He couldn't change the past, no matter how much he wanted. And did he want to. He would trade his own life only to save his former best friend.

James and Scorpius Malfoy had been best friends ever since the latter had attended Hogwarts six years prior. Despite their flaws and differences they were one and the same by their hearts. James had known the first time he'd laid eyes on Scorpius that the boy would be someone he would spend many, many hours together with, planning and plotting mischief with and sometimes even just talk. He'd known all that, with just one quick glance at the pale boy. It was only the fact that James had thought that would be for the rest of their lives. Only a couple of weeks ago he'd had to face reality the harsh way. They would never remain the best of friends for the rest of _James _life_._

It was about a year earlier when it had all started. The downfall. The slip James would never be able to fix and the lapse Scorpius never collected the _will_ to fix. When the younger Ravenclaw student began to prepare himself for the O. that James had completed the year before, the stress had been dominant in his eyes. The poor boy had never had much confidence in himself. He was so smart, clever to a level James would never come close to. On top of his intelligence, he was attractive, pleasant and humorous. But the humour and life in his eyes faded the longer into the year he processed. Scorpius didn't understand how perfect he was by simply being himself.

James saw his friend getting quieter and quieter with every day that passed. He tried to do something about it. He just didn't try hard enough.

One day he confronted Scorpius. They were walking side by side, their minds set on the library for some studying, when a girl walked by that James knew Scorpius had had his eyes on for quite some time. To catch Scorpius attention, James pulled slightly at the Ravenclaw boy's sleeve in a humorous manner. What revealed itself beneath the sleeve was not the least bit amusing.

James hadn't known his friend was willing to go so far to quiet the stress in his veins. He hadn't known self-mutilation had even been a choice for Scorpius. The stark pink scars on his wrist proved him wrong. They were a warning sign James shouldn't have taken so lightly.

"What are you doing?" Scorpius had hissed and tugged down his sleeve again, covering the skin on his arms that was no longer white and smooth.

"What's on your arm, Scorp?" James has asked in a tenuous voice as he'd looked his best friend in the eyes. When Scorpius lips had remained shut, James had continued, "Why haven't you told me?"

"There's nothing to tell", was the response. Then the pale boy had decidedly continued his walk to the library and never glanced back to see if James had followed.

After that James didn't mention the scars. He _knew_ they were there, but he pretended they weren't. If they didn't talk about it, it had never really happened. Then everything was fine. Right?

If he didn't know it got worse, then it didn't make any difference.

But it got worse. James could see the worn look that always graced Scorpius face. He could hear the desperate clang to his friend's voice. He could feel the begging grey eyes on him whenever he looked another way. He knew something, if not _everything_, was wrong with Scorpius Malfoy, but the truth was that he was too scared to act by his knowledge. James Sirius Potter was scared that he wouldn't be enough to help his friend. Perhaps that was why they started drifting apart. Scorpius' quiet cry for help combined with James' fear of failure became a poison seeping through their friendship, tearing at the bonds they had created over the past few years.

During February month that year they didn't exchange a single word. March came with a reunion between the two of them and during April they were as close as ever. James reckoned that Scorpius was better than he'd been in a long while. That he was getting better. But he was not good, not good at all. Not alright in the slightest bit. Once again James failed in being there for his best friend.

This time it was for the last.

They hardly spoke for the rest of the school year. Sometimes they exchanged a few words as they passed each other in the corridors, but it was never more than that. James kept telling himself that everything would be okay in the end. Scorpius needed some time off, so he would give him some time off. James still thought about him every day, waited for him to get better. But truth to be told, James was relieved that he didn't have any responsibility on his shoulders, selfish as it may sound. But James loved his best friend, he really did. They'd just drifted apart.

Six months later and all James could feel was the never ending guilt tugging in his stomach, the angst making him constantly nauseous except those days when he couldn't bring himself to feel at all. Because Scorpius was dead. Scorpius had killed himself and James could have stopped it. If he'd only had the courage to stay and fight for his best friend, Scorpius would still be alive.

The only way for James to see Scorpius smile was to look at the photographies of the two of them, from when they still were close. From when there was still life and happiness in both their eyes and Scorpius wrists weren't covered in fading scars. Those memories were do faded now, just like the photographies.

Two weeks had passed and James had almost forgot what Scorpius' voice sounded like. He'd forgot the name and face of the girl Scorpius had fancied back then. He'd since long forgotten the twinkle in those grey eyes when their owner came up with a new prank they could pull on their friends. But he remembered the last words Scorpius had said to him, the night before James heard the news that would grace the likes of _The Daily Prophet_ for days to come.

_"You're the best friend I could ever have asked for." _Those were Scorpius last words to James. Even the first time James had heard them they had weighted his heart with guilt, because James had let Scorpius down. He knew it wasn't the effect Scorpius had meant for the words to have when he said them, but that was the feeling they left James with. Then Scorpius had walked away. James had known the boy was heading for the Astronomy tower, but he hadn't followed. If he had, could he have stopped Scorpius? Could he have changed the shattered boy's mind?

But James hadn't known of Scorpius plans. He should have, but he hadn't. And now Scorpius was dead.

Rose and Albus kept telling him to not blame himself, but how could he not? It _was_ his fault and it was too late to change. He hated the fact that it was too late. He could never make Scorpius face the sunshine again. He couldn't even make him see the light in life again.

He would never stop blaming himself.

The only thing he could do now was to make sure everyone knew of Scorpius. Scorpius deserved to be known - everyone should know his name. He wasn't 'the boy who killed himself' as the papers claimed. He was Scorpius Malfoy, a boy who couldn't deal with life anymore. _Scorpius Malfoy_.

Scorpius was too young to die, only sixteen years old. He never made it through his Hogwarts years. The stress had gotten too much, had shaded over to depression. James hadn't understood how severe it had been. He understood now, but now was too late. It was always going to be too late.

When the memorial was held, James wasn't ready to say goodbye. While the other attendants seemed to do that, saying farewell, James burst into tears like he did every day, every time his thoughts wandered to Scorpius, which they did all the time. James couldn't say goodbye. He couldn't accept the fact that Scorpius was gone.

When James visited Scorpius grave for the first time and saw the words carved into the white stone, he still didn't understand. The person he'd once stood so close was now so far away. The bouquet of black calla lilies in his hand wouldn't change that. Scorpius would never know that James left them. Scorpius would never know James had visited his grave. Scorpius would never know how much James cared.

As he fell to his knees in front of the gravestone, the tears ran down his cheeks. He cried openly in front of the grave, his heart once again breaking as it had done when he first heard the news and as it had done every day since. He would never forget. He would never let himself forget the beautiful friend he'd once had.

After some time - minutes, hours, James didn't know and neither did he care about such subtle things anymore - he put the bouquet of the black calla lilies in front of Scorpius gravestone. As the back of his fingers grazed over the cold white stone, he closed his eyes as his hot tears burned his cheeks. He wasn't aware if he was thinking or whispering out loud, but his lips moved nonetheless, forming the words James had thought over and over again ever since Scorpius' death.

"You may not be here anymore, but you're always, _always_, in my heart. In here, you never left."


End file.
